


The Wrong Tree

by Elusive_Soul



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Romance, Sirius Black Lives, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2020-10-26 07:33:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20738549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elusive_Soul/pseuds/Elusive_Soul
Summary: Hermione Granger rarely felt lost. On the contraire – she usually knew what to do, even if others didn’t. She was the one to come up with brilliant ideas, or to figure out a way to escape a dangerous situation. Even still, when it came to love and all the things revolving around romantic matters, she was utterly clueless.Maybe if things were different, she would have acted differently. She could have pushed him away, or simply stopped this ridiculous game they were playing. But she did no such thing. Instead, she let herself fall deep into his trap. And boy, she fell hard…[Sirimione AU]





	1. #0. The Wrong Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you might have read my Sirimione smut, called "A single touch"... And I've decided to write a Sirmione AU ff, since you've been pretty on board with the idea, so... There it goes! Let me know what you think!

#0. The wrong tree

Hermione couldn’t decide if she was more terrified, or… weirdly fascinated. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Sirius Black was attractive, even after spending twelve years in Azkaban. At first she couldn’t see it; in his ragged clothes and with skin covered in multiple tattoos, he looked wild and a bit terrifying. His ribs were too prominent, and his hair too tangled for her to be able to actually _see_ those aristocratic features that had always made women swoon, when he was younger.

The change in him became obvious pretty quickly. He gained enough weight to fill all those fancy clothes he wore, and his hair regained its previous shine, falling down to his shoulders in smooth waves. His bone structure suddenly started to look like a fine piece of art, rather than the outcome of famine and the harsh environment of the wizarding prison. And there was also his laughter… Rich, raspy and so, so rare that one could not simply ignore the sound.

She acknowledged these things, sure– she was a woman, after all. Young and inexperienced one, but a woman nonetheless. His attractiveness didn’t change the fact that he was still Harry’s Godfather, significantly older than her. The age difference wasn’t such a big problem on its own though, and in the time of war no one would really care if they ever decided to get together – not even Harry.

Such thoughts had to disappear though, mostly because of a very important factor – Sirius Black would _never _take interest in such a chit like Hermione Granger. Not that she was particularly ugly, despite her wild hair, little to no make-up and the purple circles underneath her eyes. No… She just wasn’t the kind of girl that would ever allow herself to have a meaningless fling, based solely on physical attraction. And Sirius Black, despite his own age, didn’t care for relationships.

Hermione simply moved on, focusing more on finishing school and keeping her friends alive. She even developed feelings for Ron, or – at least – she thought she had. After a few, very awkward encounters, they both decided that all the stress and constant fear for their lives had messed with their heads. Weasley quickly found consolation in Hannah Abbot, while Granger decided that being in love was not something that could be forced. So she buried herself in books and helping the Order to her best ability.

To her surprise, during her sixth year at Hogwarts, she became a fairly important part of Dumbledore’s plan. He could see her intelligence and the ability to act quickly on her feet; despite the general policy to keep students as far away from the secret meetings as possible, Hermione found herself travelling back to Grimmuald Place quite often, which was the reason for Harry and Ron’s constant whining.

Boys didn’t like the feeling of being left out, but they knew that arguing was pointless; Mrs Weasley wouldn’t allow Ron to be present at the meetings, and Harry… Well, his abilities were quite limited. Voldemort only waited for a perfect chance to capture him, which would undoubtedly strip them of any hopes to actually defeat him one day. There was also the fact that things… did _not _look great and Potter would probably start killing himself with guilt, taking the blame for all the suffering. The Order decided that keeping him in the dark about most of those dreadful things was the best route, although Hermione still managed to slip him _some _information – just to keep him calm.

When Dumbledore sent her a letter, requesting her presence at the meeting, she excused herself from the boys and went down to the Headmaster’s office. The older man allowed her to use the Floo Network that was linked to Grimmuald Place and nowhere else. She didn’t really understand how it was possible to keep Death Eaters out of that connection, but Albus was a brilliant wizard, so she stopped questioning most of his choices.

Dumbledore wasn’t present in the office, but Hermione ignored it; situations like these happened quite often, and he assured her that there would be no consequences if she simply used the Floo without his supervision. She entered the flames and stated her destination loud and clear.

In a swirl of colours and whispers, she landed in familiar fireplace, smiling warmly at the sight of Sirius. That is, until she’d realised that he wasn’t wearing… _much_.

Hermione blushed, when her gaze landed on his bare chest, covered in tattoos and muscles she didn’t think he’d have. Apparently, he didn’t have much to do, besides exercising and reading. Right now he was occupied with the latter, but the definition of his abs told her a lot about his usual activities. Maybe it was just a matter of the dim lighting, but she couldn’t help but to absentmindedly trace the shadows of each curve of his skin, like it was the most mesmerising show in the whole world.

“Hello, Hermione. Nice to see you too.”

“Sirius… Sorry, I just…” she stuttered, blushing furiously to his amusement. “Dumbledore told me about the meeting and I decided to come earlier, to avoid questions.”

“Sure thing,” he answered and waved his hand dismissively, but she could still see his mischievous, knowing grin, even after he returned to his book.

Hermione stayed still for a moment, trying to force herself to move, and Black clearly sensed her hesitation. He offered her a glance and it sent shivers down her spine.

“Make yourself at home. Others won’t be arriving for quite a while,” he stated and followed her movement for a short while.

The girl sat down in the armchair right next to the couch, and took out her own book. Something about being in the same room with a half-naked Sirius Black made her uncomfortable and weirdly… wary. His gaze stayed glued to her silhouette for another minute or so, until he finally decided to leave her be. When he returned to his occupation, Hermione exhaled, realising that she was holding her breath up to this point.

Ignoring her ridiculous thoughts, she started to read and – just like every other time – she became engrossed by her lecture. Black’s presence became forgotten for a while, but when she heard his chuckle, she realised that he was still there.

“I thought that Lily, Harry’s mom, was a bookworm,” he said, when Hermione met his gaze. “Yet, here you are… Muttering weird definitions, searching for information with fire in your eyes and blush on your cheeks,” Sirius continued with amusement. “Most girls look like this, when they’re thinking about boys.”

Just like that, the tension was back in the room. It would have swept her off her feet, hadn’t she been sitting. Hermione couldn’t tell if it was just her imagination’s fault, or if Sirius had consciously laced his voice with a flirtatious tone.

“Boys are overrated,” she answered slowly and shrugged.

“Ah, so you prefer _men_, huh?”

The girl looked at him with such confusion, that he laughed shortly, making her skin tickle with the richness of the sound.

“Don’t get flustered, sweetheart. I’m not serious.” He winked at her and got back to his book once more.

Conversations like this one were the main reason as to why she’d never found him attractive. Hermione Granger couldn’t be described as an open, daring person, and Sirius… He was the epitome of those things. A subject that could make him uneasy simply didn’t exist. He also refused to treat her like a child; in his eyes, she was always a grown-up - a woman at that. Hermione would lie if she said that it didn’t make her body tingle all over. Actually, she found it exhilarating to know that someone could look past her age, to see that she was hardly a teenager. Cause a teenager wouldn’t have the guts to respond to his playful banter in a similar manner.

“But you’re quite right. I _do _prefer men,” she said, smiling at his surprised expression. He looked at her, clearly stunned, and she raised her eyebrows. “I like conversations that don’t necessarily revolve around Quidditch, you know? Most boys my age don’t really care for those.”

“But they’re much prettier, huh?” he asked with amusement, but Hermione only snickered.

“Are they, really?”

Her question was laced with irony, as she eyed him up and down, before turning her gaze away. No… No, not many boys could make her lightheaded with just a single comment and a hazy glance.

Satisfaction washed over her body, when she’d heard no reply, not right away. Sirius continued staring at her intently, trying to decipher if she’d truly meant her words. He probably considered all the pros and cons of continuing their conversation; he clearly _wanted _to continue, judging by his closed book and the way he leaned towards her armchair.

“You always seemed more mature than the others,” he finally said, sounding a bit absent to her surprise.

“I don’t know if it’s a matter of maturity.” Hermione shrugged. “My parents said that I was born with an old soul. I definitely didn’t see any… changes, when I became an official adult. I fell into my new role pretty easily.”

“That was the first thing I noticed about you,” he admitted and smiled. “Back in your third year, you were already smart enough to use the Time-Turner. To save my life…”

Suddenly the silence became heavy; Sirius voice was filled with melancholy and she knew that his thoughts went back to that day, three years ago. They both knew that it wasn’t the first time she’d saved him; last year had officially put him in her debt, although she had no intentions of ever mentioning it to him. After all, Bellatrix needed to be stopped, no matter who happened to be on the end of her wand. Hermione didn’t think much of her heroism, not until she looked into Sirius’ eyes, later that day, to find gratitude so great, that she blushed a furious red.

“I’m glad that you stayed by Harry’s side. He probably doesn’t like your involvement with the Order, but… you’re far more capable of understating certain things than he is,” Sirius sighed and averted his gaze. “The Ministry trip opened my eyes to that.”

Hermione bit her lip, trying to find the right words to answer him. Finally, she looked up and said:

“Harry wanted to save you. It was stupid, irresponsible and wrong, as it was the result of plain naivety. But you’re the only family he has,” she added gently and closed her own book. “He wouldn’t be able to live, knowing that he did nothing to help, and… I kind of get that. I bet you do to. Besides I really think he needed such a lesson, to finally understand that we’re at war and… and sacrifices are required.”

“Somehow I feel like it took a lot of effort on your part to convince him.” Sirius looked at her again, so she just nodded.

“Of course it did. It’s my main job. To keep him safe. You know that.”

Just like that, his mischievous smile was back and Hermione realised that she was about to her something that would leave her blushing, or stuttering like an idiot.

“Yet here you are… flirting with his Godfather,” he said, raising his eyebrows and silently daring her to take the bait.

As expected, she blushed, but returned his gaze with bravery she didn’t think she had.

“I wouldn’t call it _flirting_,” Hermione mused and shrugged.

“What would you call it then?”

“Responding to your obvious provocations with equal playfulness?”

Sirius laughed and another shiver ran up her spine; she’d learned to differentiate his happy laughter from the darker, richer one that usually meant _troubles_. It was almost as if he wanted to rouse her and make her acknowledge this masculine, _sexy _side of him. Or maybe he simply liked to make her blush.

“Sorry, Hermione,” he said a second later. “I just don’t get much entertainment, sitting in this old house by myself.”

“I never said I minded,” she retorted with a smile.

“Oh, I forgot… You _like _talking to men.” He rolled his eyes, making her chuckle. “But it does sound a lot like flirting, just so you know. Not that I mind either. It’s quite cute.”

Cute?, she thought and felt a pang of irritation. She wasn’t trying to be cute – on the contraire.

“Funny… That’s exactly what I thought about those provocations of your,” she said sweetly and watched the corners of his mouth twitch. “Cause you’re still trying to act like a gentleman, even though you’d just _love _to embarrass me completely. I think it’s so, so sweet.”

Sirius snorted and sat up, forcing Hermione to follow the movement of his muscles with her gaze. He noticed that, obviously, and smirked with satisfaction, but the girl was too engrossed in the conversation to care. She stared at him calmly, waiting for the comment that would undoubtedly turn their little “talk” to something sinfully dirty.

“I’m not trying to be sweet, love. I just don’t think you could handle me, actually trying to flirt with you.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows, knowing that he was just trying to manipulate her into taking the challenge. She knew it would be better to just agree with him – because she truly wasn’t sure if she _could _handle him, without losing herself in the process. Still, a part of her felt excitement just at the mere thought of all those conversation they could share. All those forbidden, inappropriate talks that would leave her hot and bothered… And so she leaned forward and did something that could prove to be the death of her.

“You want to know what _I _think?” she asked calmly, although her heart raced against her ribcage. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree.”


	2. #1. Guilty pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Here goes our first chapter. I know it's short and I have to admit, I'm probably going to stick to that length, if I want to keep a semi-regular update schedule. I hope you don't mind. I promise not to split chapters in a pointless sort of way :)
> 
> I also forgot to mention that this story is going to be full of humor, tension, ever-present slowburn, but also lots of "darker" themes. It's AU, alright, but there's still a raging war out there. And it needs to be mentioned.
> 
> Last, but not least... Thank you for your comments, kudos and bookmarks. I really didn't expect such a warm welcome and I feel so, so grateful! You're amazing!
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy it! :)

#1. Guilty pleasure

What was she supposed to say, really? Hermione couldn’t find the right words to describe their current situation, without betraying any important secrets. Dumbledore trusted her, she had no doubts about that. He trusted her to do the _right thing, _even if it meant lying to her friends and constantly coming up with different ways to deceive them. Even still, she had no idea how to lie about something _this _big.

Voldemort was getting stronger. According to Snape, he did everything in his power to outnumber the Order, even if it meant turning to such _lowly _creatures as werewolves and vampires. Hermione almost couldn’t believe her ears, when she sat in her chair, listening to her professor’s cold, neutral voice. It was so easy to forget that the war wasn’t only a concept. It was even easier to picture it as a terrible thing, happening far, far away.

Reality, on the other hand, was quite different. It consisted of constant fight, constant sacrifice, suffering and pain. Nothing made her more aware of that, than looking at Snape’s impassive face, when his fists were clenched so hard that all the blood had drained from his skin. Only then did she realise that being a spy was one of the worst jobs one could ever have.

But how could she tell the boys that the man they truly hated, experienced torture on daily basis? How could she tell them that, more than once, he had to torture one of their own, just to maintain his cover? And, most importantly, how could she pretend that the Order wasn’t doing a _terrible _job at changing the outcome of war?

“I can’t tell you,” she whispered, clearly defeated.

Lying wasn’t necessary. She truly _couldn’t _tell them, even if they assumed that her reasons were entirely different.

“Come on, Mione! We’re your friends!” Ron whined miserably, forcing the girl to scowl. “It’s not fair! We’re adults, we have the right to know!”

In a way, they really did. Harry especially deserved to know the truth, considering his role. Dumbledore was hell bent on protecting him from any information, “protecting” being the crucial word. Headmaster wanted him to remain in good spirits; Voldemort still had access to his mind, even if he seemed to refrain from using that connection any longer. Plans could change though, and Harry could easily let some secrets slip, had he known too much.

When it came to Ron, on the other hand… Well, his whining was the best proof that he was far from ready to accept the reality. War secrets weren’t something that could be shared between friends as simple gossip –Hermione could see that now, after spending some time with the Order. Her silence, as hurtful as it may have been, had nothing to do with lack of trust. She was following orders, no matter how miserable they made her.

“Stop, Ron,” she said tiredly and sighed. “Do you think I enjoy keeping you in the dark? No. Instead of pestering me, maybe try and change professor Dumbledore’s mind? Convince him to let you in.”

“Bloody hell, what else can I do?” said Ron and rolled his eyes. “I mean… We’ve saved the world already, haven’t we? Is there a way to top that?”

Hermione stopped herself from snapping at him. She knew that her friend wasn’t _stupid_, even if sometimes he really tried to prove her wrong on that. There was no doubt that Ron Weasley possessed an unique gift –one that would be very useful in war. He had the ability to think logically, to plan ahead. Even still he _refused_ to use that particular skill in anything other than chess, and Dumbledore knew that. For now he was someone with lots of potential, lots of courage and _heart_. What he lacked, was un understanding that war wasn’t about any of those things.

“Figure this out on your own, Ronald,” she said, knowing that nothing good would come out of arguing with him.

She stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles on her skirt. Her gaze travelled to Harry, who sat still on the couch, looking straight into the fire. She doubted that he had even listened to their conversation; his face seemed troubled with thoughts far more serious than his friends’ little squabble.

“You alright, Harry?” Hermione asked and he glanced at her.

“I’m sick of doing nothing,” he said bitterly. “Now that even Sirius refuses to talk to me… I feel completely useless. Left out.”

She felt a pang of guilt in her chest, upon hearing Sirius’ name. Merlin… She did not want to think about the man, yet alone talk about him to _Harry. _She left Grimmuald Place on a weird note –one that returned to her in her dream later that night. She couldn’t forget his smile, when he said his goodbyes. It was not his smile that made her knees go weak, though. His words, whispered to her ear a moment earlier, on the other hand…

_It’s a dangerous, delicious game, love. Make sure you’re ready to play._

Hermione pushed those thoughts aside, feeling terrible for even thinking about Sirius in such way, when Harry clearly needed her help. She sat down again, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush, creeping up her cheeks.

“Sirius’ situation is not so different from my own, Harry,” she said gently, but the boy scoffed in response.

“He doesn’t trust me. And how could I blame him, or any of you? I messed up last year. I nearly cost Sirius his life. If you weren’t there…”

Hermione averted her gaze, knowing what he meant. She saved Padfoot’s life for the second time, when she disarmed Bellatrix before she could have cast the spell. It was sheer luck, really –an accident that put her in that place at the right moment. Accident or not, she was still the one to save not only Sirius’ life, but also save Harry from losing the only family he had left.

“Come on, now,” she said and placed her hand on Harry’s arm. “You know it’s not an issue of trust. Last year was a mistake. Everyone’s aware of your guilt, of your regret. Sirius especially. It might have ended tragically, but it led to a good thing; the Ministry acknowledged Voldemort’s return and…”

“Stop, Hermione, just stop,” Harry interrupted her with anger. “You don’t have to cheer me up. You don’t understand what it’s…”

“No, Harry. You’re the one who doesn’t understand something. You _both_ don’t,” she said and shook her head. “No one is doing anything just to spite you. We’re not playing a _game_ of secrets,” she explained tiredly. “Being at war is not about being a _hero, _Ron. It’s also not about being a _martyr_, Harry. It’s about doing _everything _in your power and accepting that sometimes it means staying put, for the sake of others. And _that’s _why Dumbledore doesn’t want you near the Order. Because he needs people, who can follow orders, even if they make them die inside.”

“But…” Ron started, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“There is no ‘buts’. It also proves my point perfectly. Show him that you can accept that reality is not a fairytale, where brave people do heroic things and save the world. You especially should know that the war is a place for logic and cold assessment, Ron. And Harry…” Hermione stood up and smiled gently. “Sirius just wishes you to own your mistake. To accept that the weight of the world doesn’t rest upon your shoulders. You’re not alone and no one is _saving _you by sacrificing themselves. We’re fighting a war. All of us. Even those, who stay in the shadows.”

They were stunned by her little speech. Hermione knew that it would cost her few days of silent treatment, but a part of her guessed it would all be worth it. Boys, not unlike men, couldn’t stand being told that they were _wrong_. It challenged their pride, which, to Hermione, seemed almost like a mythical thing created solely for the purpose of justifying idiocy.

It still felt good to say all those things out loud –to finally let her frustration out. She missed them. She hated going to Grimmuald Place all by herself, just to listen about horror and terror. But, most of all, she missed those rare moments of laughter, of pure friendship. The old house felt dark, heavy, and she really couldn’t blame Sirius for turning into such a grim person.

Sirius… Merlin, what was she supposed to do about that man? He wouldn’t stop plaguing her thoughts, even when she had much more important things to do, or to think of. In a way, he resembled a very infectious disease that spread throughout her mind –_and _her body, now that she thought about it. 

There was no denying the fact that she almost _itched _to see him again, to see that mischievous smile and sparkles in his eyes. It was so stupid of her to even consider a possibility that he might have enjoyed their last conversation same as she did, but… A memory of his breath, tickling her ear, when he whispered straight into it…

Merlin, she really _was _going crazy. Not even five minutes earlier she lectured her friends about their behavior, only to succumb to those naïve, sinful thoughts. She had to figure out a way to control herself, if she wanted to remain even partially sane.

Hermione entered her dorm, only to be greeted by an owl – brown, with gleaming eyes. She didn’t recognize it right away, which alerted her mind instantly. Who could owl her at such a late hour? Surely not her parents, or any of her friends. It had to be someone from the Order then, and that thought made her extremely uneasy.

She walked up to the window and let the owl in. Having given her a cookie, she untangled the letter and traced the black ink with her fingers. Hermione’s heart sped up even more, when she recognized the handwriting. Sirius, she thought with exasperation, which quickly turned into involuntary excitement, when she broke the wax seal.

_Kitten_,

_I had a rather… ravishing dream about you. It certainly made me wonder, if you really can purr, when someone rubs you the right way. _

_Snuffles_

Hermione blushed furiously and had to sit down on her bed, just to make sure she wouldn’t fall straight on her face. It was so easy to imagine him saying such a thing… _Too _easy. She knew that if someone intercepted that letter, it would sound like a code of sorts. Because there was no way that Hermione Granger could receive a message this dirty.

She did though, and it made her body tingle with excitement, while she desperately tried to catch her breath. Did he expect an answer? No. He _dared _her to answer. Hell, he probably didn’t think she had it in her to do such a bold thing, and at that moment, Hermione felt inclined to agree with him.

She had many talents, but _flirting _wasn’t one of them, despite her earlier bravado. Actually she had a theory that it was the outcome of adrenaline rush, rather than anything else, because Hermione Granger didn’t know _how _to be sexy, even if she tried. Ron had laughed his ass off, when she wanted to smile at him in a very Sirius-like manner.

She was no Lavender Brown, who batted her eyelashes and every boy seemed smitten. She was no Ginny Weasley, who could simply _be _and still ooze confidence. Hermione felt like a child, when she stared at Sirius’ handwriting, with blush covering her entire face.

Suddenly all she could think of, was their last conversation. Weirdly enough, there was no hesitation then. No shame, no fear… Only excitement and something that resembled a fresh breeze after spending hours in a smoky room. 

The idea of flirting shamelessly with Sirius Black seemed… normal. As normal as life could get. Sure, they weren’t an _ideal _match –he was older, damaged, forbidden in some ways, while she was a teenage girl. Very mature one, true, but still a girl. People would, undoubtedly, frown upon any sort of romantic involvement between them, but… Hermione decided that she didn’t care.

In a time of war, when no one could be sure of living another day, even those rare moments of joy and _fun _were priceless. Sirius may not have been a good choice for her, but… He certainly made her feel alive. The question was not if she _wanted _to play this game with him. It was whether she could win and still remain herself – Hermione Granger, who was determined to make sacrifices necessary to defeat Lord Voldemort.

There was no harm in replying to Sirius’ letter, she decided and exhaled sharply. A decision was made, and Hermione felt its weight, settling over her shoulders. It wasn’t unpleasant, though; she had a _secret _now. Another one, someone might say, but this time she shared it with someone else. And it felt bloody _good_.


	3. #2. A tool

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot say how much it means to me that you seem to enjoy my story! I know that it's only just beginning, but I'm really excited to continue. I think that this chapter promises... action. Find out for yourselves and let me know what you think!   
xoxo

Autumn was coming to an end; cold started to seep through the castle walls, making everyone appreciate the warmth in the Common Rooms. Hermione was no different. She truly hated that moment, when sitting in the library became unpleasant due to lack of light and the ever-present chill that made it incredibly hard to think.

The girl sighed, realising that she had spent last minutes staring at her unfinished essay with an empty gaze. Her mind was elsewhere –far away from Hogwarts in fact, although she couldn’t exactly pinpoint its location. It seemed to change constantly, as she jumped from one place to another, each thought grimmer than the previous one.

Hermione wondered if she had made a mistake, when she chose to berate her friends for acting like children. She expected the silence to last a couple of days, before they would come to their senses and simply get back to the old ways – to being inseparable. Few weeks had passed and the boys still kept their distance, which started to worry Granger. It was not her goal to drive them away. She wanted them to understand that such childishness would not be tolerated in the time of war.

Maybe she was wrong to stand up to them. Maybe she should have waited for a better moment, instead of following her anger and irritation. It would be much easier to protect them, if she could still talk to them and shadow them everywhere they went. In the lights of latest events, they needed to keep close. What had happened to Katie Bell was truly awful. What made things even worse was the fact that Hermione _knew _that Harry was right all along – that Malfoy really had something to do with this.

She had no proof and Dumbledore dismissed her questions, but… Well, she could see that he exchanged a couple of very meaningful glances with Severus Snape, when the subject of young Malfoy came up in the Order’s last meeting. Frankly speaking, Hermione was _shocked _that she had been able to notice _anything_, since Sirius kept staring at her with gleaming eyes, making it incredibly hard to focus. 

Before her thoughts drifted away towards Harry’s Godfather, a sound of a moving chair woke her up form trance. She looked up and gaped, when her gaze landed upon her black-haired friend. Harry wore an expression of guilt and embarrassment and it immediately warmed her heart.

“Hi,” he muttered awkwardly and Hermione smiled gently.

“Hi,” she answered and leaned forward. “It’s a rare sight, seeing you in the library.”

“Yeah I… I kind of felt it would be the best place to talk to you. Not a lot of people here, especially at this hour. It’s bloody cold.”

The girl nodded and forced herself to relax completely; she didn’t want Harry to think that she was angry or even slightly disturbed by his presence. He seemed to have noticed her friendly attitude, and he shifted to a more comfortable position. Hesitation disappeared from his face, leaving an apologetic smile behind. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “You were right. I should start acting like the Chosen One, if I want people to actually see me as an ally and not a liability. It’s just so hard to stay in the shadows, when everyone is doing _something_. Even you.”

“I’m not doing much, Harry.” She shrugged in response. “Sure, I get invited to the meetings, but I don’t have a specific task. I listen, I voice my opinions, talk about the situation at Hogwarts…”

“At least you’re there. You know what’s happening,” Harry said and sighed. “I just wish they could trust me. That I didn’t have a connection to Voldemort.”

Hermione nodded and bit her bottom lip. She often wondered why Dumbledore dismissed the idea of continuing Harry’s lessons in Occlumency. Sure, Snape proved to be a terrible teacher; he allowed his grudge to come between them, even if it wasn’t his fault that the lessons ended. Still… The headmaster should have seen that the boy needed to learn in case Voldemort decided to use him again.

It wasn’t her place to correct Dumbledore, but, in current situation, she really started to consider talking to the old wizard. Or maybe… Maybe she should talk to Sirius? After all he had better chances of convincing the Order to change their minds. The fact that Harry seemed ready to accept his situation, really helped.

“Hermione?” The boy forced her to come back to reality and she smiled apologetically.

“Sorry. Just thinking,” she said and Harry rolled his eyes.

“You always do. Maybe it’s time I started to do that too.”

“What about Ron? Does he agree?” she asked cautiously and her friend flinched.

“Yeah, well… You know him. He’s stubborn and too proud to apologise. He still thinks you’re unfair.”

Hermione sighed and decided not to bother. Ronald Weasley could be a nightmare. His pride and low self-esteem often fought each other to the point, where he didn’t even know what he thought anymore. Living in such a big family could be demanding. It also put him in the shadow, which he tried to escape with all he had. To him, standing in the spotlight was always the dream. She should have known that he’d have a hard time accepting the fact that no one cared for his bravery, when so many lives were at stake.

“It will take some time,” she summed her thoughts up, while Harry nodded agreeably.

“But he will get there. He always does.”

The conversation died down, but Harry didn’t make a move to leave. Instead he opened his bag and grabbed a book. Hermione had to stop herself from staring at him, as he took out a quill and parchment, only to start scribbling something with a haunted expression.

“Don’t give me that look. If I’m already here, I might as well do something productive, yeah?”

She snorted, but said nothing in response. A spark of pride lit up somewhere in her chest, only to be replaced with a pang of guilt, when she thought about her recent activity of exchanging dirty letters with his Godfather. It seemed that Harry finally started to truly grow up, while she… Well, she allowed her mind to venture to a very unsafe area. What would her friend think, had he known about her _secret_?

“Have you heard from Sirius lately?” she blurted out, before she gave it much thought.

Harry blinked in surprise and then frowned a bit.

“Yeah. You know, just the usual. It’s funny you ask, actually. He’s mentioned you in one of his letters. Or… At least I think he meant you. Since when does he call you _kitten_?”

Hermione blushed a furious red and averted her gaze, trying to come up with an eligible explanation. She couldn’t exactly tell the truth, could she now?

“Oh. He tried to find a nickname that suited me and wouldn’t give away my true identity. It pisses me off, but…”

“It really _does _suit you,” Harry chuckled and grinned at her. “You can be terrifying, when you want to, but on daily basis, you’re quite harmless.”

A part of her would _love _to see her friend’s face upon finding out that Sirius hadn’t meant something this innocent, when he came up with it. Actually, she had yet to ask him why exactly he had chosen such a word, but she dreaded the moment, as it would probably end up in a very tense situation. One she wasn’t sure she could handle. Not yet anyway.

“Thank you, Harry. That’s very sweet of you.” She rolled her eyes, trying to seem unfazed by their topic, and he only laughed.

Before he could say something, Madame Pince rushed to their table and shot them angry glare.

“Silence! It’s a library, not a courtyard!” she hissed and Hermione immediately smiled apologetically, while Harry shrugged, not feeling guilty at all.

Part of her was glad that the woman interrupted their talk. Exchanging letters with Sirius Black was one thing, but talking about him with her friends… Well, it made things different, more difficult. It made everything more _real_ and Hermione wasn’t sure what to think of it.

She simply couldn’t make up her mind. Whenever she began to think that she was fine with this little game they were playing, another thought popped into her head and ruined everything. There were just so many thing that could go wrong… So many things that, despite being deliciously enticing, could put her in a very troublesome situation.

Hermione Granger wasn’t a girl to act reckless. Hell, she was addicted to thinking, planning and considering every possibility. No, she wasn’t a brilliant strategist, unlike Ron, but she still liked to think that there was no room for spontaneous choices in her life. They were dangerous and, often, they posed a threat to a _lot _of people. Maybe her decision to get involved with the likes of Sirius Black couldn’t affect the entire war, but… But there still was a lot to lose. Her dignity, her pride, her… her heart.

Why did she think that it was possible to simply _flirt _with Sirius and feel nothing except for a rush of adrenaline? It sounded like such a stupid assumption to make, now that she had a brief knowledge of what their conversation could look like. He knew what to say to make her brain freeze in a wave of clear excitement. He knew _how _to say it, to make her shiver in anticipation. He didn’t even need to see her often to make such an impact of her adolescent heart.

It was stupid, really, but Hermione could recall each syllable, whispered to her ear, when no one was looking. And even if they were looking, Sirius made it seem completely innocent, while her entire body burned with emotions she couldn’t even name. A brief touch here and there wasn’t enough to catch anyone’s attention. It sure was enough to fill her mind with various ideas about what else he could do with those hands.

Merlin, she needed to stop. She needed to find a way to maintain a somewhat professional contact with him, as they were both part of the Order. Sirius seemed to have no trouble participating in the meetings, while he kept sending her lustful glances that drove her crazy. He had _experience _when it came to such things. She didn’t. Something had to be done, if she didn’t want to feel _extremely _stupid very, very soon. Because that’s where their game inevitably led. To her humiliation and his victory.

***

“Miss Granger. Thank you for coming!” Albus Dumbledore greeted her with a warm smile, but Hermione knew better than to believe his façade.

The headmaster had long stopped being a sweet, old man in her eyes. She’d spent too much time with him not to know that he was dangerous and cunning, just like he had to be in a time of war. It made him a great leader, but… It also turned him into a not-so-good person.

“Of course, professor,” she said and sat down in front of his desk, wondering why she was summoned.

“I’m going to make this quick,” he stated, as if he read her mind. “I’ve received a message from Sirius. He suggested that it might be a good idea to resume Harry’s lessons.”

His eyes pierced her, causing a cold shiver to run up Hermione’s spine. She had no doubts that he knew everything about her letter to Sirius. While his tone wasn’t threatening, something in his eyes told her that he wasn’t exactly pleased with her actions.

“I believe you were the one to suggest such a thing in the first place, correct?” Dumbledore said and nodded stiffly. “May I ask why?”

Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to look him straight in the eye.

“Harry might not be able to actively help us, due to his importance. It doesn’t mean that he should be left alone. We depend on his skills to defeat Voldemort. We hope he can destroy him, once and for all, but we’re not doing _anything _to actually prepare him for such task. I just thought that teaching him how to protect his mind, might give him a chance to become a part of this war,” she said and Dumbledore nodded cautiously, clearly wanting her to continue.

“He feels left out, distanced. He understands it’s all for safety reasons, but it still bothers him. When it comes to Harry, it’s only a matter of time till he does something… _stupid_.

“And you think that teaching him would prevent such a thing from happening?”

Hermione hesitated and decided that there was no point in lying; not to him.

“I don’t know. I just think that it’s our best shot to make him feel _needed_. Because he is. All of our actions, they all lead to that one, final battle and Harry’s abilities to defeat Voldemort. I doubt he can achieve that, if he thinks he’s going to get slaughtered.”

Suddenly a chill ran up her spine, when Dumbledore smiled. Something about that expression was tense –too tense for her liking. It almost felt like he tried to cover his true thoughts with that smile and Hermione decided that she hated that look.

“Yes, of course, Miss Granger. I wholeheartedly agree,” he said, making her skin crawl. “Which is why I’ve decided to put _your _lessons in motion.”

“My lessons?” she said, clearly surprised, but Dumbledore only nodded.

“For obvious reasons, I cannot smuggle Harry out of the castle on daily basis. _You _on the other hand…”

Hermione frowned, trying to connect the missing dots. She wasn’t the one in dire need of lessons. What would be the point in having her learn? Ah, of course. Not only would he protect all the secrets in _her _head, but she could also teach her friend without causing any inconveniences to the Order.

But why would she need to leave the castle for that?

“I would have taught you myself, but I’m afraid my schedule is tense. Too tense to add another activity to it.”

“But, sir… Who else could possibly…”

“Sirius expressed his willingness to teach you. He’s, after all, a Black. He certainly knows the basics of the subject and I believe that, for now, basics are all you need.”

Hermione swallowed hard, feeling both terrified and excited. Getting to spend some time with him, _alone_, was surely going to be an exhilarating experience. She still doubted, though, that it would be _easy _to arrange such a thing. Hermione Granger belonged to the Golden Trio. All eyes were set on the Chosen One, but it didn’t mean no one cared for her and her actions.

“I know that I managed to sneak out of the castle for the meetings, but how do you plan on keeping everyone from noticing my absence?”

“Polyjuice Potion. Someone will take your place for two hours, until you return from Grimmuald Place.”

She nodded stiffly and couldn’t force herself to ask one last question, which circled her mind. Polyjuice would work not only for her, but also for Harry. No one would question, whether he was the real Chosen One, as long as they would see his face.

Still, Hermione had a pretty good idea, why Dumbledore didn’t consider it an option. There was _always _a risk that someone would stumble upon them in the wrong time. If the enemy discovered their secret, it would be _much _better if Hermione were the one to get caught. Her intelligence proved useful, but she wasn’t the only person who could think. Harry, on the other hand, was crucial. Losing him would probably end their chances of ever seeing the world in a new light.

Hermione couldn’t help, but to feel chilled to the core at the mere thought that her life meant this little. The thought of spending time with Sirius felt exciting, but… She couldn’t stop herself from wishing she had stayed silent. She’d rather spend hours, writing stupid letters, than wake up with a feeling that she was just a tool in someone else’s hands.


	4. #3. Tiny cracks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! I'm really happy to post this chapter. It was fun to write and I'm pleased with how it turned out.   
Thank you for your amazing support! Please, feel free to leave a comment. I read all of them, even if time often stops me from replying right away.   
Well, anyways! Thanks again and enjoy!

#3. Tiny cracks

Hermione arrived at Grimmuald Place with a giant lump in her throat. She half-expected Sirius to be waiting for her in the living room, but after she opened her eyes, she saw no one. For a moment she was genuinely relieved, until a realisation hit her; if he wasn’t _there_, where on Earth was he?

“Sirius?” she called out hesitantly, but no answer came back. “Great…” she muttered and put her bag on the couch.

Hermione didn’t fancy the idea of having to search the entire house, as her mind already worked on a dozen different scenarios, where he managed to sneak up on her. She didn’t want to give him the advantage at the start. Proving immune to his charm seemed like a foreign, impossible concept even without having to act on her feet. She was _sure _that he planned something special for her arrival, just to mess with her head.

“Sirius!” she tried again, irritated at her own thoughts.

“Coming, love!” This time he bothered to answer, sounding weirdly out of breath.

As soon as he trotted down the stairs, she realised _why_. Apparently she interrupted his daily workout; he was shirtless and his skin shimmered with sweat that only made muscles underneath more prominent.

Hermione could only stare at him with wide eyes and mouth open. She knew that he would do something like _this, _and she still managed to walk straight into a trap. But, Merlin, what a sight it was… She almost couldn’t believe that a man his age looked _this _good; thin, but not enough to bring up bad memories. Muscled, but just enough to look healthy and absolutely delicious. There was also his smile and the way he used a towel to wipe away some of the sweat. His movements were slow, deliberate and Hermione became dangerously aware of it.

“I take it you’re not ready for our lesson,” she muttered stupidly and he only laughed.

“Depends on what kind of lesson you want to receive, love.”

The girl blushed, despite her best effort not to. Hell, how could she ever stay calm after hearing such words? Even still, she was determined to play his game without losing, so she simply shrugged and forced herself to meet his powerful gaze.

“I don’t need a lecture regarding exercise, Sirius,” she said and sat down on the couch with as much dignity as she could muster. “Could you please dress? I don’t have much time.”

He laughed again and threw away the towel, leaving her in a very uncomfortable position; she tried not to look at him, but it only came off as awkward, so she simply fixed her gaze at his face, deeming it the safest area.

“Well, unless you’d like to join me in the shower, you’ll have to wait a bit,” he stated and raised his eyebrows.

Hermione decided that she didn’t like the teasing tone he’d used. She didn’t like to be _worse _at something – even if it was pretty obvious that flirting face to face was not her strong forte.

“Tempting offer, but I doubt Dumbledore would be happy with… _those kind of lessons._”

Sirius’ eyes glinted, but he said nothing. Instead he simply turned around and left, allowing Hermione to catch a good glimpse of the dimples on his back. She couldn’t exactly tell, why she found them _attractive_, but apparently her mind was far more complicated than she thought.

A sigh escaped her lips as she tried to calm herself. Breathe in, breathe out… If only she could stop herself from thinking about _him _in the shower. It was pathetic, really. Even with such an important task at hand, she couldn’t find an ounce of strength to fight off her hormones.

A sudden, unpleasant thought popped into her head and Hermione froze, feeling her cheeks heat up. Oh, Merlin… Sirius would see her memories – all of them, probably, since she stood no chance against such a skilled wizard. What if he would see something embarrassing?

“Fuck…” she muttered and blushed even harder.

Swearing wasn’t _her thing_. None of this was; yet, here she was, sitting on the couch and squirming around, while trying to banish lustful thoughts from her head.

“Get a grip, Hermione.”

Even though she could hear determination in her own voice, the more time passed, the more anxious she became. He probably wanted her that way – nervous and, therefore, vulnerable. If she were to ever encounter a Death Eater, she had to be able to withstand the pressure. Even still she highly doubted that she would feel like _this _during such a meeting.

After what seemed like an eternity, Sirius trotted down the stairs – thankfully dressed – and smiled at her. This time it wasn’t a playful, flirtatious smile, and Hermione found herself relaxing, if only a tiny bit.

“So… What can you tell me about Occlumency?” he asked and sat down opposite to her.

“It is a form of the magical defence of mind. It allows a wizard to resist an external penetration, or to fool the opponent,” she said automatically, causing Sirius’ smile to widen.

“Yes. It sounds quite useful, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, unsure of what he meant; Occlumency _was _useful, but it required much more than just the _ability _to resist someone’s attack. From what she heard, emotional stability – a sense of discipline – was the key to occlude one’s mind properly.

“Judging from your expression, you already know that its _usefulness _is limited. I, for example, would never become an excellent Occlumens. Why?” he asked and cocked his head to the side.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. The answer seemed obvious, really, but she didn’t want to offend him.

“Well…” she started eloquently, but Sirius just kept smiling, so she decided to be honest. “You have a temper. You’re impulsive and emotions rule over you far too often to call you _stable_.”

“Right. Something else?” He seemed genuinely amused.

Hermione made a mistake of looking deep into his eyes. They both fell silent for a moment; he was patiently waiting for her response, while she… She simply stared at him, trying to find words to describe what she saw deep inside his irises.

“Chaos_,_” she finally muttered and turned her gaze away. “I think your mind is far too chaotic, unorganised.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No. It’s just bad for Occlumency,” Hermione protested and glanced at him, only to find Sirius with a satisfied smile.

“That’s right, love. I still know enough to teach you, though.”

The girl tensed visibly, causing his smile to falter. Suddenly the silence started to feel tense, heavy. She didn’t like that one bit.

“Listen…” He started, his tone lacking its usual flare. “I know that it’s not an ideal situation, considering our… game. But I’m not going to use those lessons to my advantage. I’m not going to use _you_.”

Somehow she felt that his words had a deeper meaning, one she wasn’t sure she liked. A frown appeared on her forehead, as she started to analyse his little speech. Hermione wasn’t stupid enough to think that he might treat her seriously. She might have been an entertainment, a way to pass the time, but he definitely didn’t fancy her enough to follow through with all of his _promises_. She even realised that, despite feeling aroused by the entire situation, if things were about to get _physical_, she would probably back out of the game – to hell with losing.

Still, hearing him admit that it was just a game – not an actual _fling _in the making… Well, it made her annoyed. Partly because, even if she had no intentions of actually having sex with him, she wanted him to treat her like an equal – an adult.

On the other hand, they weren’t equals. She was still a student, wearing a uniform with Hogwarts emblem. He was a man, dressed in tailored robes, which couldn’t hide the fact that life managed to break him – maybe not wholly, but even now she could see thousands of tiny cracks in what used to be an image of a great, great man.

“Sirius…” She found herself saying his name, even if she didn’t know what she wanted to say. “Don’t go easy on me. Teach me as much as you can, and be ruthless with it. I… This game means nothing in comparison to the…”

“…greater good?” he asked quite mockingly and she froze for a moment.

“No. To the lives at stake.” Hermione sounded much harsher than she intended to, but the way a smile eased onto his face told her that it was the right thing to say.

“See? Just when I start to think that maybe it is wrong of me to flirt with you, you remind me that age is just a number,” he laughed and just like that the tension was gone.

She wanted to tell him that it really _was _wrong – just not for the reason he gave. Age was, indeed, just a number, but it still made her vulnerable. Even if he knew she could make her own decisions, others wouldn’t see it that way, had someone found out about the letters and all the teasing. And there was also the fact that Hermione wasn’t sure if she could really separate meaningless _fun_ from… something entirely else. He could – it was clear as day. He’d done that so many times, he’d probably lost count.

Age was just a number, but it made her innocent and easy to manipulate. When it came to him, control was just a concept; she couldn’t keep her emotions in check and her heart fluttered, making rational thoughts disappear.

“It is wrong,” she blurted out and blinked. “It is wrong on many levels, but… I’m not going to tell you to stop. It’s too…”

She hesitated, seeing a shadow cross his face. His eyes seemed darker now, making her even more unsure of what she wanted to say. When he leaned forward, she could see that his irises had almost a silver glint to them. In that moment they reminded her of liquid mercury, drawing her in with a force that seemed almost… _magical_.

“It’s too _what_, love?” he whispered and she could vaguely smell whiskey in his breath.

“E-exciting,” she stuttered and blushed furiously, when his lip curled up in a very satisfied smirk. “It takes my mind off the war and… everything.”

To her surprise, he reached towards her face; his fingertips felt warm against her cheek, making Hermione even more flustered.

“Yes… It’s certainly helpful, when it comes to battling demons.” He sounded almost absent, but something about that tone made Hermione smile.

Maybe because she wanted to think that, after all, he found consolation in their correspondence. That in a weird way she could help him too, reminding him that there was so much more to life than just being closed inside four walls.

Without thinking much about it, she raised her own hand and laced their fingers together. Surprise crossed his face, but it was soon replaced by a tender smile – one she’d never expected to see on _him_. It suited him; his worry lines smoothed, making him look younger. Once again Hermione started to wonder, what was he like during his school years. Stories were one thing, but… What if he used to smile like _that_ with ease? With people around?

“We should probably get to it, love,” he said quietly, and Hermione shrugged off her thoughts.

“Yes. Yes, we should.” She cleared her throat and sent him one last gaze. “And _you _should smile more often.”

Sirius looked at her with amusement, forcing her to roll her eyes.

“I smile all the time.”

“No. No you don’t,” she disagreed and for a moment he simply stared at her, until he finally turned his head towards the fireplace. “Not really.”

He said nothing in response, but Hermione knew that she’d sent him into a spiral of thoughts – not necessarily pleasant ones. Suddenly she wished to read his mind and catch a glimpse of those demons he spoke of. She wished to see them, feel them… Destroy them.

No matter how complicated their relations became, or how difficult it would be to maintain them, Sirius Black didn’t deserve the life he had. He deserved to be free from the shackles that kept him in a house he truly hated, in a place, where… Where he could do nothing except for thinking about everything that made him miserable.

Hermione bit her lip, realising that she simply couldn’t back out of that stupid game. She had a feeling – a nasty one, really – that it would slowly break him and turn those tiny cracks into full blown holes, full of raging void.

She wanted to make him whole again. To make him remember that he wasn’t just a vague, distant memory, but a living, breathing person, who still had a lot to fight for.

She wanted to be there for him. And it scared her.


	6. #4. Their little secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! I know it's been a minute, but don't worry, I still remember about this story :D Thank you for your lovely support! I hope you'll like this chapter!

Christmas came too quickly – or at least she felt that way. With the amount of assignments and her _private lessons_ with Sirius, she couldn’t even tell where all the time had gone. Hermione started to drown in routine, while each day looked exactly the same. Maybe she should have been grateful for such a turn of events; it meant things were peaceful, although everyone got a feeling that it was merely calm before the storm. Still, no one was about to complain. In a time of war, every second counted.

She was making progress, when it came to Occluding her mind. What surprised her – Sirius turned out to be a great teacher. He was shockingly patient and incredibly forgiving, when it came to her mistakes. He also limited their playful, flirty banter to minimum. At first she was worried that maybe he’d had his fun, but then she realised that it was a stupid thought; he, not unlike herself, had a job to do. He tried to teach her as best as he could and the task required his undivided attention.

It was weird and quite embarrassing, but Hermione missed blushing furiously at the mere thought of seeing him. His company became almost natural, while his _dirty _remarks stopped being so shocking to her. Each day brought her closer to feeling absolutely at ease with him, whether it concerned joking around or discussing serious stuff. Even physical contact – as limited as it was – felt more like something usual, than a sign of deep attraction.

They came to a silent agreement. Hermione ignored his mischievous smiles, or the way he admired her curves, when she arrived at Grimmuald Place dressed in something else than a school uniform. He ignored the way she eyed him up and down, biting her lip, when she thought he looked particularly endearing. They both _knew_ that despite their very mature cooperation, the attraction _was _there, just waiting to resurface.

Hermione feared Christmas. It was one thing to interact with him, when there was no one to witness it, but the presence of the entire Weasley family changed things. What if someone noticed? What if someone _felt _the chemistry between them?

She was an adult, alright. It didn’t change the fact that she was still a student and in the eyes of other – Mrs Weasley especially – she resembled a child more than a fully-grown woman. It bugged her, to say the least, but there was nothing be done about that. Molly didn’t need another reason to fret and worry, with Ron constantly whining that he was _about to be seventeen _and he deserved to be treated as a legal adult. With twins constantly risking their shop being raided by Death Eaters, with Percy working at the Ministry… She already had too much on her mind.

Besides, what would it change? Hermione was far from thinking that her relationship with Sirius was even worth fretting over. Sure, she liked him – genuinely and probably more than she should. They both decided that it sparkled some excitement, helping them forget about the grey reality of everyday life. She wanted to help him, to _heal _him, but she was still far from the point, where she would risk fighting with the entire family just to have _him_.

When she arrived at King’s Cross, along with her friends, Mrs Weasley instantly trotted their way and started hugging them fiercely. Hermione smiled, but then her expression changed, when she spotted a great, black dog wagging his tail and licking Harry’s hand. What was he thinking, really? Death Eaters _knew _that he was able to transform into an animal. Why risk it? Why…

Her outrage lessened, when the dog sat down on her foot and looked at her with his tongue hanging out. He whined and she found herself unable to resist his pleading stare.

“You’re unbelievable, Pads. We should probably put you in a muzzle,” she threatened lightly and couldn’t fight off the impression that he laughed at that statement, when a deep bark resonated through the air.

_Only if you’re into that sort of thing, love_ – she could almost _hear him _say that, much to her dismay. Hermione didn’t know how it happened, but she was now so familiar with his perverted sense of humour, that she really started to see the difference between him flirting and just being _himself._ He relished in the possibility of simply joking around, without the need to overthink every word leaving his mouth. She could offer him as much, even with everyone present. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all?

Before she managed to convince herself, Sirius nipped at her finger and she blushed. It was _weird _to feel anything even remotely sexual, since he happened to be a dog at the moment, but his eyes were still the same – glinting with a spark she recognised all too well.

“Bad boy,” she muttered and the spark grew more intense.

Hermione cleared her throat, not wanting to continue… whatever was going on. She gently pushed him away and walked up to Mrs Weasley, who instantly put her arms around the girl and hugged her fiercely.

“Hermione, dear! You’re so thin! Have you been eating?”

“Of course she has. She wouldn’t let the house elves’ work go to waste,” Ron mocked and passed her with a grin.

Harry snorted, while Hermione rolled her eyes at them. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling; Christmas really was here and they could finally take a break from the constant worrying. They _deserved _a break, her especially.

“Don’t be mean, Ronald!” Mrs Weasley scolded her son and then steered Hermione towards the exit. “And you, dear, don’t mind him!”

“I really don’t,” she said and smiled gently.

***

Grimmuald Place had never been more cheerful. It seemed like everyone tried to make up for all the brutality and cruelty of the _outside world_ by being extremely happy and light-hearted. The reasons didn’t matter anyway; all that counted was the fact that they were together, safe and sound.

“Hermione! Good to see you!” Bill Weasley said and pulled her into a bear hug, one she certainly didn’t expect. “Mom wants to convince you to stop attending meetings. Watch out.”

Of course… He wanted to warn her that his mother still treated her like a child – one that had to be fed and constantly smothered. Suddenly all of her happiness evaporated, replaced with mild irritation. She loved Mrs Weasley with all of her heart, but… When it came to fighting a war, there was no place for her personal opinions. Hermione, whether she wanted it or not, was a soldier and the Order needed every help they could get.

“I’ll be sure to avoid her,” she thanked Bill and smiled.

It wasn’t long, before she was pulled into another tight embrace – one that left her tingling all over.

“It’s good to see you, love,” Sirius muttered straight into her ear, making it seem like a warm greeting between friends.

No one even bothered to pay attention to them and Hermione was glad, because the way his hands gripped her waist had _nothing _to do with friendship. Suddenly the flirtatious Sirius was back and she decided that it really was to be expected. He wasn’t teaching her now, was he?

He pulled back with reluctance, but made sure to drag his hands away in a painfully slow, sensual motion that left her skin itching for more.

“Hope you’ve been a good girl,” he said and tilted his head to the side.

To everyone else it sounded like an obvious reference to Christmas, but to her… Merlin, it sounded dirty as sin itself. She smiled and raised her brows proudly.

“Of course I have. I’m always good.”

Before she could say something that would inevitably betray true nature of their relations, Hermione turned around and joined Ron and Harry, who were busy talking to the twins. She couldn’t stop herself from sending Sirius one last glance, only to find him staring at her ass, cladded in a pair of tight jeans. Caught red-handed, he simply winked at her and licked his lips, reminding her that she was still the shy and unexperienced one here.

_It’s going to be a disaster,_ she realised with exasperation, but it didn’t stop her from smiling like an idiot. After all, she really looked good in those skinny jeans.

***

“Hermione?” Ginny’s voice snapped her out of half-sleep, and she blinked away the sleepiness.

“Mm?” she muttered quietly and heard the sounds of rustling fabric, when Weasley got up to a sitting position.

Hermione realised that she would have to forget about her tiredness and focus; it seemed like her friend had a problem. One that apparently made her unable to sleep.

“I think I_ like_ Harry.”

She almost snorted at this statement; everyone _knew _that Ginny had a thing for the Chosen One. At first they thought it was mere fascination, but her feelings grew stronger, and stronger, even when she dated other boys.

“Are you sure?” she asked nonetheless.

“Yes. I mean…” the girl hesitated, but sighed in the end. “Oh, what the heck… He’s incredibly brave, smart and… Well, kind of hot, don’t you think?”

No, she didn’t. Looking at Harry _that _way made her feel absolutely horrified. He was her brother in everything but blood. Still, she could agree that he was reasonably good looking, with beautiful green eyes, dishevelled black hair and lean body of a Seeker.

“Um… I suppose so,” she admitted after a moment of hesitation. “I mean, I can’t look at him like that. Same thing with Ron. I just… _can’t_.”

Ginny fell silent for a moment and then sighed.

“You know, there was a time, when I genuinely thought you and Ron are going to be an item. But then… Things changed.”

“I thought so too, we even tried to… well, _try_,” Hermione snorted and shrugged, reminded herself of those tragic encounters that led them to believe that being friends was just fine. “It wouldn’t work, regardless of anything. We’re not a good match.”

“No, you’re not. Now it’s just plain as day,” Ginny said and sighed. “Do you think… That Harry and I could be a match?”

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it abruptly, causing her jaw to pop. Her friend asked a difficult question, one that she didn’t know how to answer. Ginny was temperamental and so was Harry – at least most of the time. But the girl was also fierce, constantly, while Potter tended to allow the depression to settle over him. It would be good for him to have someone, who could remind him that he didn’t have to get _physical _to be considered a great fighter.

On the other hand… Ginny knew what she wanted. Harry – not so much. He knew what had to be done, but his vision of certain things often clouded his judgement as to his own needs, or even obstructed it. She doubted that he had even thought of having a relationship with someone, especially _now_. Knowing him, even if such a possibility occurred to him, he would probably convince himself that it was a terrible idea. It would result in making Ginny extremely unhappy.

“Gin…” she started and frowned, trying to find the right words. “No one knows that. But I don’t think Harry is… _ready _for a relationship. I think he has a lot on his mind, most of those things being his own, made up issues.”

“I can wait. I’ve waited for quite a while now, but… I just don’t know if it’s worth it, you know? If he’ll ever come around.”

Hermione frowned, not knowing what to say, or rather –not knowing _how _to say it. She suspected that Harry might have a crush on Ron’s sister. He spent a lot of time, watching her from a distance, which was a huge tell-tale when it came to his real feelings. It didn’t change the fact that the weight of the wizarding world rested on his shoulders. She highly doubted that once the war was over, he would still be the same person who managed to capture Ginny’s attention.

Maybe it really would be worth it to wait, to give him time, but… But no one could guarantee that he would remain _whole_. Was Ginny ready to pick his broken pieces and mend them? Was she even aware of the fact that he might not get over the trauma?

“Gin…” she started again and let out a deep sigh. “We’re at war. I know that I keep a lot of things from you, but you _have _to know that it…”

“…changed you?” The girl snorted. “Yeah, everyone sees that. You kind of remind us of the third year Hermione. You juggle way too many things at once, and you still try to find the time to listen to our immature babbling.”

Hermione closed her eyes and remained silent. Yeah, she had responsibilities. Yes, she was exhausted from all the hard work, and there were times, when even talking about meaningless stuff made her irritated. In a long term view, however, she remained grateful for all of these interruptions. It prevented her from going mad. It reminded her about the purpose of this war.

Listening to their stupid babbling was, in a way, quite similar to her little game with Sirius. Obviously, it was far, far more _acceptable_, but while her friends could often be annoying, Sirius… Sirius never was.

“I’m sorry,” she said, diverting her thoughts from Harry’s Godfather. “I know things are different now, but I just…”

“You’ve always been smarter and much more mature than any of us. While Ron and Harry might not see it, cause you’ve always been there for them, I always looked at you with respect and admiration, because… well, you’re bound to make a difference.”

Her words made Hermione blink in confusion and then in awe. She didn’t know what to say, how to respond, because… How could one react after _that_?

“It’s one of the reasons I actually asked you about Harry. You seem to look at things from a greater perspective than anyone else,” Ginny said and shrugged. “Do you think we stand a chance? With war, with… everything that’s going on?”

Just like that, Hermione realised that the redhead wasn’t a little girl anymore. She understood certain things, even if they were brutal and unfair. She knew that her relationship with Harry would be tricky and filled with constant struggle. And she still wanted to give it a go.

Even with lacking expertise in said subject, Granger knew that in Harry and Ginny’s case it wasn’t a matter of attraction and passion. It was a question of whether they could be there for each other, even when the other one refused to accept help.

“Yeah. I really think so,” she finally answered and felt her cheeks flush, when Sirius popped into her mind again.

It was strange to think about him in such a serious context, but somehow… Somehow she began to think that maybe their little _flirting game _could turn into something much more solid. A friendship, maybe? Or…

She shook her head and decided that her sleep deprived mind ventured into a very dangerous place.

“Hermione?” Ginny broke the silence again. “Do you have someone to talk to? In the Order, I mean? Cause it would suck if you had to deal with everything on your own.”

“I… I do, yeah,” she admitted shyly.

“I hope it’s not my brother,” the girl joked lightly, clearly meaning Bill or Charlie.

“No, although I quite like Bill. He’s like a ray of sunlight sometimes,” she said, smiling gently. “Less irritating than the twins, but still a sweetheart.”

“If it’s not my brother…” Ginny mused and chuckled. “Does Harry know?”

Ah, so she figured it out –or at least _some _of it. Hermione didn’t think that anyone possessed complete knowledge of what her true relationship with Sirius looked like, but it felt comforting in a way to have someone know that they were talking. It stopped feeling like such a dirty secret.

“Not really. I mean… He’s probably aware of the fact that I’m talking to his Godfather, but I doubt he ponders over it too much.”

“Should he? You know, ponder over it?”

Hermione stopped herself from overreacting, knowing that it would only fuel Ginny’s interest. She took a deep breath and then shrugged dismissively.

“I guess not. It’s not like we’re competing for his attention.” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “But Sirius is… Well, different than I thought. He can actually be mature, when he wants to, and he’s a great listener.”

She specifically chose traits that couldn’t be perceived as a sign of _romantic interest_ and Ginny seemed convinced that whatever was going on, it was purely platonic. The girl was perceptive, though, and Hermione had no doubt that she would eventually catch up on all the tension between them. Until then, their little secret was safe. And it really felt good to have someone know at least part of it.


End file.
